


city of stars

by graycoal



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Davey is always confused, Davey's a dancer, F/F, F/M, Hey the beatles are mentioned a lot because why not, I know Ben Fankhauser isn't the best dancer, I've been wanting to post this for a while, M/M, Modern AU, Multi, Sarah is big sister goals tbh, The straights are made up by the government, This story focuses a lot on PT, Um enjoy the story, Yes the title is from La La Land, just go with it, lots of references, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-01-07 13:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12233610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graycoal/pseuds/graycoal
Summary: Modern Newsies AUDavey's a dancer. One of the best, in fact.But when he gets hurt--on stage--his whole world comes crashing down. Will he ever make it back to where he once was?





	1. little swing

**Author's Note:**

> I finally posted it!

Now, if you saw Davey Jacobs in public, you wouldn't think of him as graceful, you'd think he looked like a child learning to walk for the first time. But even through his clumsiness, there was a sense of elegance that just couldn't be denied. 

As a young child, he was entranced by any kind of dancing. Lindy Hop, ballet, interpretive. You name it, he could be easily entertained by it for hours on end (especially the Lindy Hop). So, of course, it didn't take him long to decide that it was something he wanted to partake in. 

And his parents...well, that confused them. Why was their son so fascinated by such a girly thing? Shouldn't he like race cars and violent cartoons? 

Even though his parents weren't in agreement of his dream to dance, Davey was persistent in the fact that, if his sister could take guitar lessons, then he could be signed up for a dancing class. 

"He'll grow out of it." His mother assured. 

"Hopefully." His father grumbled. 

Davey, in fact, never did grow out of it.

..........

Davey Jacobs was signed up for ballet eleven years ago. 

And now, he's one of the most well known dancers in New York City. He has been asked (begged) to be in Broadway shows, and in professional dance groups. He, in many people's opinion, has it made. 

But we all know the phrase: "The higher they are, the harder they fall." 

.........

Surrounded by his dance companions, seventeen year old Davey Jacobs feels at peace. And, not many people in his situation--on stage in front of hundreds of people--would feel comfortable. His group, though mainly trained in classical ballet, didn't stick to the cookie cut format of the routines, as they used newer, more vibrant songs. Which was terribly exciting, and one of the reasons why Davey felt so comfortable. 

They're a terrific group, and to watch them do something so classical with something so not was rather magical. 

Along to AronChupa's 'Little Swing', Davey moves with such precision and ease, even though he's painfully aware that there are dozens upon dozens of talent scouts seated among the audience members. 

Though he was the only boy on stage, feeling the odd one out was not an option. Sure, his clothes were different, as was his body in general, but being lost in the movement and music held his mind in a certain zone that can only come with dancing. 

There's flipping and flouncing, and Davey's most favorite thing, pirouettes. And the spotlights shown on him--and just him--as he took center stage and twirled. 

Faster and faster and faster, the song repeating the lyrics in a way that made it seem as if the track was stuck (it wasn't). And then...

A sickening crack, and suddenly Davey was lying on the stage, with eyes wide in horror and mouth open to expel a  horrific scream.


	2. pulse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Davey's present and past

The world around him is a blurry mass of bright lights and dust particles. 

Besides seeing, Davey can hear the obnoxious thumping of his heart and his rapid breaths. In the distance, there are shouts, none of which he can make out. 

Puffed up dresses and glittering traumatized faces crowd what seemed to be miles above him. Muffled voices jostle around, and his stomach lurches 

"Davey!"

"Oh god."

"I don't think a leg is s'pose to bend that way..."

"Someone call 911!" 

"Davey, Babe, can you hear me?"

"Get his parents!"

Davey Jacobs now lays helplessly on the stage, feeling himself being tugged into the depth of a realm called unconsciousness. 

~-~

 

It's Davey, but smaller. 

It's Davey, but angrier. 

It's Davey, but bruised. 

It's Davey, but different. 

He's moving across the floor, creating intricate patterns with his slipper clad feet. 

His older sister--Sarah--watches from the sideline, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jean jacket. She'd rather be at home, but her parents placed twenty dollars into her hand and told her to take her brother to practice. Maybe she can use this money to buy a new guitar tuner...

"Oh!" Eight year old Davey wails, collapsing on the ground and kicking his legs out in front of him. "I HATE dancing!" 

Sarah snorts as the other students weave around him, not really paying attention to the boys antics. 

After three or four minutes, he doesn't seem to be getting up. So Sarah marches over to him and pokes his side. "Get up."

Davey crosses his arms and pouts. "I wanna go home." He announces, staring at his sister with a look that one can only find on the faces of young children. 

"You're not going home. You have another hour." Sarah is getting to the point of thoroughly annoyed. 

Davey pulls his knees to his chest and twists his mouth. Sarah knows that if he's not calmed down soon, he'll throw a terrific fit. "I'm done! I don't want to do this anymore!"

Sarah drops down next to him, making sure that she doesn't block anyone's path. "You're not quitting."

"Why not? I keep falling! I'm obviously not good enough!"

Twelve year old Sarah Jacobs is getting angry. Even though she hates her brother with a burning passion, she wasn't going to let him throw away his dream and talent. "Listen here, Davey. This class is for teenagers. And how old are you?"

"...Eight."

"Then that means you're good enough, Doofus."

"But Saraaaaaah!" Davey starts tugging at his hair, and his eyes become even darker. Whining normally works with his parents...

"Get up, right now!" Sarah orders, attracting the attention of students and adults alike. And it is at this moment, she realizes that this is the time to use the Big Sibling Fear Tactic."If you don't get up and finish what you started, then I...I will throw all of your books into the dumpster!"

"WHAT?!" Davey squeaks, horrified.

"But not the Harry Potter books. Those I will personally shred into pieces!" 

"No!" The boy shrieks, scrambling into a standing position. 

"And your movie collection! And your CD's! All of those musicals and Beatles albums, into the dumpster!"

"NO!"

"THEN DANCE!"

Davey sobs and rushes back to his group, standing at attention with the rest of them.

Sarah's done her job, and she's pretty sure all of the parents think she's either a genius or a horrible big sister.


	3. billy elliot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to Me Attempting To Get This Right
> 
>  
> 
> \- time for me to SCREAM about how FUCKING AMAZING BILLY ELLIOT IS -

" _Heyyy_   Billy Elliot." A familiar voice greets from the bedside. "I gotta say, you're looking like absolute shite today."

 

A Pause.

 

"Gee, thanks Antonio. I hadn't noticed." Davey grunts bitterly, not giving his friend the satisfaction of opened eyes. "I thought I was all fine and dandy here, just laying in a hospital bed with a busted up leg. The doctors think it's broken, but they're probably just overreacting."

 

Antonio (Racetrack) huffs softly and slips his hand into Davey's. "Ah, don't be that way." He began to play with his friend's fingers. "They're never going to heal if you keep peeling the skin by the nails, you know." 

 

Davey tries to yank his hand back, but Antonio holds firm. "Everyone's worried about you."

 

Davey finally opens his eyes, but keeps them focused on the Brooklyn Nine-Nine rerun playing on the shitty TV by the window. "They have no need to be. I'm fine. Best health of my life."

 

"But the X-Rays--"

 

" _Fuck the X-Rays_." Davey whispers. 

 

"Huh?"

 

"FUCK. THE X-RAYS." Davey _screams_ , glaring at his friend with fury and wrath and pain that can only occupy the features of someone who has lost it all. His face flushes dark red, and his pupils look as if they are widening. "I DON'T CARE WHAT THE X-RAYS SHOW. I HAVE A SMALL BONE FRACTURE, OKAY? I'M. FUCKING. _FINE_."

 

Antonio's eyes widen. "Davey--"

 

Tears leak down Davey's cheeks. "I'm fine. I'm f--" He chokes on his words. The room spins, the television becomes too loud, and his heart clenches in pain. 

 

Antonio opens his arms without hesitation, and Davey dives into the embrace at once. 

 

"You can't deny it anymore, Billy Elliot." 

 

Davey sniffles, getting his friend's shirt all snotty and damp. "I'm not Billy Elliot anymore, Race." He mumbles weakly. "I haven't been for a long time."

 

"Hey, once you're Broadway Billy, you never go back." Antonio teases soothingly, using his legs to scoot the chair a tad closer to the bed. 

 

Davey thinks fondly back to his few years on Broadway. He remembers the boy playing Michael (his first crush, in honesty), the lights, the costumes, the music, his English accent he worked so hard to get down, the hyper audience, the _dancing_. Oh, especially the dancing.

 

His mind suddenly takes a leap, wandering innocently to the sickening images of the bone jutting from his leg. Davey's body begins to shake. 

 

"I miss Broadway." He admits, turning back into the wide eyed, excitable little boy who started shrieking with joy during his debut bow on the Imperial Theater stage. "Sometimes I wish I never left."

 

"Don't we all, Babe." Race chuckles, as he rubs small circles onto Davey's back. "Don't we all."

 

 

 

 


End file.
